


soulmates (or, the universe has a personal vendetta against charles leclerc)

by altissimozucca



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Charles is a Mess, Everyone has a band on their finger that changes colours depending on their mood, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Multi, Only your soulmate can see the colour of the band, POV Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:11:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23174635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altissimozucca/pseuds/altissimozucca
Summary: Sometimes, Charles really hated having soulmates.(Not really, but you get the point.)
Relationships: Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc/Max Verstappen
Comments: 21
Kudos: 110





	soulmates (or, the universe has a personal vendetta against charles leclerc)

**Author's Note:**

> It's tough times and what better way to deal with them than some fluff? Slightly different writing style than usual, so I'm not that proud of it.
> 
> Inspired by [this tumblr prompt](https://xoxoyourdad.tumblr.com/post/612347555619160064/soulmate-au-your-born-with-a-black-band-around)

** It was written** in the stars that every person had their one true match, someone whose soul matched theirs and with whom they were destined to be great. There were different ways that the universe showed people who they were destined to be with, but they all lead back to one thing – a black band wrapped around the same finger of the same hand on both people.

To everyone but them it appeared black. A soulmate was the only one who could see the tattoo changing colours to match the mood of the person around whose finger it was, along with the person themselves; it was said that there were mostly two of the same bands, belonging only to a single pair of soulmates.

Charles called bullshit on that, because he’d seen them changing colours on two different people; one happened ages ago and the other was a thing that happened constantly. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

It was just his luck that one of his soulmates was his best friend, while the other was his biggest rival.

Seeing Max’s band when they were younger, back when he wasn’t wearing a ring over his middle finger to hide the mark, Charles wasn’t aware of how much it would mean to him; fourteen-year-old Charles refused to have anything to do with Max Verstappen.

Eight years later, he was laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling in hopes of heavens plummeting down and swallowing him whole just so that he could avoid facing Max ever again. It was one thing to not know who your soulmate was – it was another to hide it for eight years.

How was Charles even supposed to approach the situation? Just send an Instagram DM _(hypothetically, if they were still following one another (Charles refused to admit he was being petty))_ along the lines of: ‘Hey, I know we barely talk outside of press conferences and that but I’ve known you’re my soulmate for 8 years now and never said anything. I also know you don’t want much to do with soulmates, since you’re hiding your band, but if you’re ever up for a coffee, hit me up.’

Yeah, there’s no way Charles was doing that.

He wished he could talk to Pierre about it. Pierre would know what to do.

But that’s where the other part of his problem came in: he’d seen the band around Pierre’s finger coloured a beautiful, bright yellow more times than he could count. Universe seemed to hate Charles, assigning him not one but two soulmates, with one of them being his best friend and the other someone he had beef with (not really – he got along well with Max).

Knowing that he was destined to be with the two of them did nothing but help him develop a nasty crush on them both. He couldn’t really let them know, so he took Max’s approach and started wearing a ring over his band; the piece of jewellery still felt heavy on his finger despite being there for years now.

Sometimes, Charles really hated having soulmates.

(Not really, but you get the point.)

Pierre easily noticed something has been up with Charles for a while. Charles noticed that Pierre noticed, because Pierre was about as inconspicuous as an elephant; the Monègasque noticed the worried gazes and the furrowed eyebrows as he tried to distance himself from Pierre, just to clear his head a little.

There was a moment when he thought Pierre knew, but brushed it aside because Pierre would confront him about it. The Frenchman always seemed to know what was going on inside of Charles’ head.

Charles hoped Pierre knew what was happening inside his head.

Maybe Pierre would be able to explain it to him, because he had no idea.

He’d finally been confronted by his best friend after a week of not looking at his WhatsApp except to reply to some people who would send police to his door if he completely disappeared of the radar. Pierre wouldn’t call the police, but he would come knocking on his flat door on a Wednesday morning, when Charles was still asleep.

With his bed hair still intact and his eyes still only half-open, Charles dragged himself to the front door and unlocked it, opening it without even thinking of looking through the peephole. To find himself standing in front of Pierre was a surprise, and Charles could do nothing but blink.

Pierre seemed frozen in his spot, too, jaw hanging as he met eyes with Charles. His expression was an odd mixture of relief, fury and worry, and Charles smiled at him sheepishly, rubbing his eyes a little.

Just as he was about to say something, Pierre’s eyes caught the band on Charles’ finger turning a light, rosy hue; he hadn’t even noticed Charles wasn’t wearing his ring. “What the hell?” Pierre’s voice was quiet as he looked at Charles – or, more precisely, the middle finger of his right hand.

So, Charles did the only thing a reasonable adult human being would do – he hid his hand behind his back.

Pierre looked at him in disbelief, “Just because you put your hand behind your back doesn’t mean I didn’t see your finger, Charles.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charles responded, moving further into his flat. “What are you doing here?” he asked, changing the subject. He was aware it was a poor effort, but at that point, he was prepared to try anything just so that he doesn’t have to talk about being soulmates with Pierre (and Max).

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with him _(them)_, but he’d have to admit he kept it for himself for so long without a proper explanation.

“You’ve not been replying to messages for days, Charles. I got worried,” Pierre replied, walking up to Charles and trying to grab his hand, a stern expression on his face. Charles let out a sigh and complied, trying to stop the blush forming on his cheeks as the band switched between pink and turquoise. Pierre’s eyes softened, “Don’t be scared. I just want to talk to you.”

“That’s what scares me,” Charles couldn’t keep his nerves from showing in his voice.

Pierre wrapped his arms around Charles, hugging him tightly. Charles let his body slump against Pierre, inhaling his scent; he forgot how nice and warm Pierre’s hugs were. “We don’t have to talk, then,” the Frenchman mumbled, tightening his grip around Charles, “Just let me hold you.”

Dealing with Pierre (as if he did any dealing – they spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed) was easy but dealing with Max… that was a challenge Charles was not ready to take on. After he found out from Pierre that he could also see Max’s band changing colours, they came to realise Max was bound to them both.

It was a three-person bond.

Charles didn’t know how to be with himself, let alone two other people.

Pierre promised to be there when Max found out. He promised to wait until Charles was actually ready to confront Max and to come clean about everything (he also had tears of laughter streaming down his face once he found out Charles that knew about it for years, that their rivalry skyrocketing was the reason he kept it to himself and that he felt awkward talking about it now, years later).

Of course, with Charles, nothing seemed to go how he wanted it to.

He should’ve known universe would have a way of screwing him up again.

It was after a press conference. Charles was trying his best to sneak out of there as quickly as possible, get back to the motorhome and wallow in self-deprecation back in his driver’s room before he almost made a fool of himself in front of Max, _again._

That didn’t go to plan as Charles almost tripped over some of the wires and bumps as he was leaving the room. If it wasn’t for a pair of arms wrapping around his waist and keeping him from falling, he would’ve ended up faceplanting the wooden floor.

In the middle of the chaos, his ring slipped off his finger. The pink on his finger glowed brightly and he bit his lip, separating himself from Max. Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, he forgot about his ring and thanked the Dutchman before bolting (though in a walking manner (he didn’t want anyone thinking he was crazy)).

“Hey, you lost this!” He heard behind himself, before a hand wrapped itself around his wrist. Charles felt mortified as he realised which hand Max took, and he could feel the exact moment Max saw the band around his middle finger as his hand froze.

“Thanks,” Charles decided to say, like a complete dumbass, still turned the other way from Max.

He felt the ring getting dropped into his palm and he slipped it on his finger, finally turning around so that he was facing Max, who was looking at him with an unreadable expression on his face. The silence surrounding them felt heavy, and Charles wanted nothing more than to run away, sprint like he was Usain Bolt and competing on the Olympics.

Charles was scared of looking at Max any longer.

But then Max smiled at him, and Charles almost melted into a puddle. “I think we’ve got something to talk about, don’t we?” the Dutchman said.

Charles grimaced, “I really don’t like talking.”

They talked about it.

All three of them.

Charles found out that Max and Pierre both knew about each other but never said anything.

(Charles realised he was kind of stupid – his soulmates were teammates, of course they noticed things like that.)

(Charles also realised his soulmates were kind of stupid – they pretended they didn’t know, which was impossible since Pierre’s band was constantly on show.)

It was alright, though, because they were finally together.

They were a mess, but they didn’t mind.

Charles’ whole life was a mess anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr at altisssimozucca](https://altisssimozucca.tumblr.com/)


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